Being an Elf
by Queen Susan the Gentle One
Summary: Enelya Potter (Fem. Harry) is actually an elf. She's been transported to her homeland, Middle Earth, to find her soul mate, help Thorin become King, and later join the Fellowship. (Does not follow canon entirely. Certain people ARE NOT DYING! You've been warned.)
1. Chapter 1

What no one had ever told Enelya Potter was that her parents were elves, simply because no one alive knew.

Lily had been orphaned and taken in by muggles, her pointy ears passed off as an endearing genetic defect.

James on the other hand, had known from the beginning. The Potters had stayed behind when Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves, and other peoples had fled to Middle Earth after the steady influx of violent, paranoid, mankind. Hiding their ears with magic, they passed down their Elven history over the generations.

The moment James and Lily met, they _knew_—they were meant to be. They had a bond deeper than any mortal relationship.

James told Lily about the Elves, though they kept up a façade of being enemies so as to throw off any who would kill them for merely existing, such as Albus Dumbledore, so-called leader of the light.

In their seventh year at Hogwarts, the two "reconciled" and began dating. By the time they were twenty-one Lily and James had married, fought the dark lord Voldemort, and had a beautiful baby girl, Enelya, naming her after her mother in the Elven tongue.

Unfortunately, a prophecy was made, and Enelya's life threatened. After going into hiding, Lily placed a spell on Enelya that would end on her seventeenth birthday in the event that she and James died, disguising her elven heritage.

Betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, the two parents died on Halloween protecting their daughter, but Enelya lived. Manipulating the situation to fit his plans, Albus Dumbledore illegally place Enelya with her mother's adopted sister, hoping to break her.

Little Enelya lived without love or even proper care until she arrived at Hogwarts, but she remained strong throughout it all. While at Hogwarts she went on a series of adventures with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, most carefully orchestrated by Dumbledore to test the girl.

The most exciting adventure, however, had yet to come. It would begin when her seventeenth birthday occurred.

Enelya would become an elf again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Return to Middle Earth

Enelya tossed and turned in her sleep. It was nearly midnight on July 31st—Enelya would soon be seventeen, and the magic hiding her elven heritage was fading.

All too soon the glowing red letters on Dudley's old alarm clock changed to 12:00. A soft white light illuminated the room, coming from Enelya herself. She finally lay still as the magic covering her fell away.

Enelya's hair grew until it reached past her waist, her ears became pointy, and her already pretty features became even fairer and appeared to glow with a luminescent radiance. However, through all of this, Enelya had seemed to shrink, becoming child-like in body, for elves age slowly.

The white light around Enelya grew brighter until the whole room was blindingly white, Hedwig screeched, and with a final flash, the girl was gone. And no one but Hedwig was the wiser.

Belladonna Took had seen a lot on her adventures to and from Imladris, but to see an unconscious child appear as if by magic—that was something new. She quickly dropped her small bow and rushed to the child, a girl she surmised, based on the long curling hair and delicate features. She was extremely pretty, Belladonna noticed absently, as she checked her pulse, almost elf-like, like Arwen—and then a frightening realization sank in. Hurriedly shoving a lock of hair aside, Belladonna found what she was looking for. A pointy, elven ear. The girl was an elfling!

But Belladonna knew the last elfling was Arwen herself, over 2000 years ago! This girl couldn't have been more than two decades old—making her at most ten human-wise.

Belladonna stood up, slung her bow on her back, and picked the child up, surprised and worried at how light she felt, much lighter than she would have expected. Still hobbits are not the strongest of creatures, so Belladonna was thankful that Rivendell was less than a mile away. She stumbled into the gates and gasped to a nearby elf,

"Get me Lord Elrond."

The elf in question took a look at the girl cradled in Bella's arms, and with wide eyes whispered,

"_Quende."_

Then he turned and ran for Elrond faster than Bella had ever seen an elf move before.

Only minutes later, Elrond appeared and took in Belladonna and the still unconscious girl. His eyes roved over her porcelain features, tiny body, and fiery red hair. Taking a few steps forward he dropped to his knees beside the two, catching a lock of soft red hair between his fingers and rubbing it.

"Arawen?" he whispered.

**This is so evil leaving the story here, but I felt a cliffy was in order. So according to my math Enelya is 17 years old mentally but physically only about 8.5. My reasoning is this: elves age slowly, and are then immortal unless murdered or they fade, right? So every decade of elf aging is like five human years, and once an elf reaches 20 (don't know, I just like that number) in appearance (which is 4 decades) they are adults and stop aging unless they are halfelven, in which case they will live for 3000 more years until they begin to age, and at this point each elven decade is six months of mortal time, which means that middle age will take a very long time to set in, let alone old age. But no worries; Enelya is a full-blooded elf. Enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, poop. I didn't know that elves became adults at one hundred, if so I would have altered my timeline to fit. Unfortunately, it's a bit late now, but thanks EmmaM12 and Nayeri, I will keep that in mind if I ever write another Lord of the Rings or Hobbit story.**

**On the subject of reviews: thank you to everyone who has reviewed saying they liked it. Thank you also for your constructive criticism. I realize that these first two chapters are a bit short, I will elongate as I go on but I unfortunately have this weird habit of summing everything up in a few hundred words if possible. Damn essays…**

**However, I also got reviews saying it's too short, blah blah blah, and how it's sad that in two updates my story isn't 1000 words long yet, etc. Seriously? I just started the story, peeps. That was a prologue and introduction. I like constructive criticism, not insults. Lay off.**

**Now, on with the story!**

Enelya didn't know how long she'd been floating in the comforting darkness, but eventually she began to stir from it. As she came back to consciousness, she realized that she wasn't on the hard, thin old mattress in her room at the Dursley's, but a soft, silky-feeling bed instead, which scared her. Had the wards around Privet Drive finally broken so she could be kidnapped? Everyone knew what some people wanted her for; it was really just a fact of life now. But the wards should have lasted another week or two; she'd done the research and found that the wards Dumbledore used to shield the home would break when she left the place as a home forever, not on her seventeenth birthday like he'd tried to say.

Opening her eyes, she was greeted with the sight of two identical pairs of grey eyes staring at her. With a shriek her wand was out of its invisible holster on her arm and the two men leaning over her were dangling upside down in midair. Enelya might not have liked Snape, but he did do a good job inventing _Levicorpus._

"Who are you, where am I, and what is going on?" she demanded as she leapt out of bed. She'd gotten quite good at this. She was best at interrogations of the Death Eaters the Order caught the second time around. Supposedly it was something about the eyes.

Killer curse green was apparently more than a little off-putting.

The two in midair in front of her didn't look like her normal Death Eaters though.

Enelya forced down the rising memories and focused in time to hear the answer.

"I am Elladen—"said one.

"And I Elrohir—"added the other.

"And you're in Imladris, the last homely house in Middle Earth!" they chorused together. Enelya was reminded strongly of Fred and George. Or, as they preferred, Gred and Feorge.

"Im..ladris…oh Merlin, I've made it into Tolkien's books!" she shrieked. That caught the twin's attention.

"You know Tolkien?"

"He disappeared from Mirkwood few centuries ago, odd fellow,"

"Had foresight better than Ada's,"

"I guess he wrote a story about our world,"

"He always did say there were other worlds out there."

Both twins stopped abruptly when they spotted Enelya, who was shaking her head and muttering to herself:

"I just can't do anything normal, can I? I battle basilisks and Voldemort and time travel and now I'm in another WORLD!"

The twins looked sideways at each other. Was the girl touched in the head? What was a basilisk?

"Anyways…."

"In response to your last question"

"Miss Belladonna Took found you in the woods unconscious and ran with you here. Ada has taken care of you, and he thinks he knows something about you."

Enelya looked at them suspiciously.

"If I let you down, what will you do?"

"Well we would"

"Take you to Ada to"

"Make sure that the whole business"

"With traveling between worlds"

"Didn't have any"

"Rather nasty side effects."

"Very well." Enelya sighed. At the very least she would get some answers. To be sure, she gave them a rather scary glare.

"No funny business, got it?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"None at all!"

Tired of their irritating manner of speech, Enelya let them down rather hard. Her reward was two resounding, rather girlish yelps.

Enelya smirked.

"So…you're telling me that not only was my mother kidnapped from Middle Earth as a toddler, she was also your daughter, Lady Arwen's twin sister, making me your granddaughter, Lords Elrohir and Elladen my uncles, and Lady Arwen my aunt?" Enelya confirmed.

They had just spent the better part of an hour informing her about their relation, the lifestyle of the elves, and Middle Earth in general, although somehow she could already speak the Elvish tongue flawlessly (Lord Elrond suspected a blessing of the Valar) and it turned out that the Common Tongue was actually just English.

"Yes, your ama's true name was Arawen, she was older by a few minutes than Arwen. You know, you are a Lady of Imladris just as she is, now, don't you, hên? There is no need to call us lords and ladies except in formal affairs." Elrond smiled.

"Alright, _dâd_." Enelya blushed. Suddenly she looked startled.

"I've never called anyone that before…" she muttered, Elrond's keen elfin ears only just picking it up. His mouth suddenly went dry.

"Do you mean to say…you've never called anyone in your family by something affectionate?" he asked quickly.

Enelya hesitated.

"Yes…"

She was suddenly enveloped in a warm, tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, tithen pen. I'm so sorry." He murmured into Enelya's hair over and over again while rocking the two back and forth.

"It's okay, _dâd_. I never got the chance to know any of my family anyway. They were all dead by the time I was one, except for ama's adoptive sister and her husband and child. Nasty woman, Petunia Dursley." Enelya shuddered.

Elrond sighed.

"Tell me about your life, tithen pen. All of it." He requested.

So Enelya did, launching into a fantastic tale of magic, trolls, friendship, Horcruxes, an Dark Lord or two, and time travel.


	4. Chapter 4

Years had passed since Enelya had come to Imladris in the arms of Belladonna Took. She had grown, slowly as all elves do, learning to be a lady; training to fight with sword, bow, and knives; and living a second life with her family—pranks with her uncles, girly days with her aunt, learning of the lore of Middle Earth with her _dâd__. _

(The pranks had to be limited after she nearly blew up Imladris.)

Enelya was very happy indeed with her life. She would shortly be forty, the Elvish year for coming of age. Then she would be able to go off on adventures and maybe look for her_ cuil melethril_.

All Elves had a _cuil melethril_, their other half, to be found once they were both adults, but some never found them because so few Elves were left in Middle Earth. Oftentimes an Elf could look for their entire lives, wishing for their One to appear. The fortunate few who did find their _cuil melethril_ would be hard-pressed to leave their partner for more than a short time for the rest of their immortal lives.

_Elrond was still looking for his__cuil melethril__, after thousands of years._

Elrond had not known Celebrian had not been his true other half—he was young, foolish, and thought that his first love was the last. She had left to go to the Undying Lands after an orc attack, and never once did she look back upon her family or wish to stay with them. This had nearly destroyed her _dâd __and his four children. _

_In fact, until Enelya came, her twin uncles, Elladen and Elrohir, had almost never been at Imladris, but instead went out hunting down every orc they could find and killing them, furious at the creatures that had given their flighty mother a chance to leave them with hardly a goodbye. Enelya had given them a reason to move on._

_And so move on they did._

_20-years-old:_

_"Oh Enelya!" Elladen sing-songed as he made his way down the hallway._

_Enelya silently giggled at the foolish picture he made, walking down the hallway with his arms outstretched, a habit they had all developed when looking for her. Her belongings had all been stored in a small silver locket which she had enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm before she came to Middle Earth, so she was hidden under her father's invisibility cloak. On a rafter above Elladen's head. _

_He was so not going to find her._

_Which was a good thing, too. She and Elrohir had booby-trapped his favorite boots, filling them with Elladen's chief horror. _

_**Cockroaches.**_

_Yes, cockroaches. The great Elfin warrior Elladen was afraid of cockroaches. His (girly) scream when he felt them in his shoes had nearly burst some unfortunate Elves' pointy ears._

_With a barely audible giggle, she waved her wand and his hair turned bright pink, just in time for Arwen to enter the hall. She stopped in her tracks and began to giggle at the hilarious scene in front of her. It took a minute for the still-shell-shocked Elladen to realize she was laughing at him._

_"What?" he said, a little defensively._

_Arwen couldn't speak through her giggles, so she merely pointed at his head._

_Elladen slowly reached up and grabbed a strand of his hair, holding it near his eyes to inspect it._

_A look of horror came upon his face as he realized what Enelya had done._

_And what could the fierce warrior do? This was magic, after all._

_He screamed._

_Many Elves would complain of sore ears for the next several days._

_25-year-old Enelya was perched lightly up in a tree, waiting for the perfect chance._

_It came too easily when Glorfindel started walking along the path that meandered under the tree._

_With a practiced flip she was on his shoulders, hands over his eyes._

_She was forced to wrap her arms and legs tightly around him when he immediately began to panic and nearly flipped off his back._

_"Gotcha Glorfie!" she snickered._

_The proud Elf, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, hated that name. Which was why she used it, of course._

_He stilled upon hearing the irritating nickname._

_"Enelya." He sighed._

_"Right in one." She smiled, though he couldn't see it._

_Glorfindel gave a (admittedly fake) sigh of annoyance and began running with her to the Hall for dinner._

_At least she hadn't hexed him._

_So time passed, and Enelya began to think of her adventures—for the first things an Elf must do when they come of age are to have a celebration in their honor and to go on an adventure, coming back wiser._

_The only problem?_

_Enelya's uncles and __dâd __were more than a little overprotective. As was young Estel, the Dunedain child who had been adopted into their small family. He had immediately become rather taken with Enelya, often climbing in her lap and demanding stories of the pranks she had pulled (she had to make him swear not to tell she orchestrated the Great Prank War when she was 29—it had culminated in a fierce food fight that left grandmother Galadriel covered in salad. Her uncles took the heat for __that__ particular escapade.) But even Estel was protective of her, glaring at every unrelated male who looked at her for more than a second. Arwen apparently thought he had a crush on Enelya. Dear__ Valar__, she hoped hot. That would be entirely awkward. _

_Enelya would just have to take what she could get on the adventures._

_Bloody overprotective Elves._

_Speaking of which…_

_"Enelya? Where are you? You need to get ready for the feast!" Arwen called._

_Enelya sighed and jumped lightly down from the tree she was perched in, surprising Arwen._

_"By the__ Valar__, don't do that, Enelya!" she exclaimed, lightly swatting her arm._

_Enelya blushed._

"_Díhenom…_" she mutter_ed._

_Arwen smiled fondly at her niece. _

_"It's all right. Come on though, we have only a few hours."_

_Enelya stifled a groan as her aunt led her first to the bath house, then to her rooms to dress for the feast._

_At least there was no makeup. She had hated that stuff when Lavender Brown tried to force it on her, claiming that she 'might be pretty naturally, but real girls wear makeup.' _

_One hex later and she never heard another peep about the crap._

_That was the only positive thing she could think of when it came to letting Arwen dress her up._

_Enelya winced as Arwen pushed a hairpin into the mass of red hair on top of her head._

_"Almost done now…there!" she exclaimed, twirling Enelya to face the mirror._

_Enelya's jaw dropped. _

_She was stunning._

_Usually she just brushed her long red curls and threw on a (urgh) dress when it came to feasts. However, this was her coming of age feast, so her aunt had taken it upon herself to make her look 'ravishing'._

_And she had._

_She had forced Enelya into an ornate dress of dark, forest green trimmed with silvery gray; clasped the Evenstar around her neck, much to her protests; and pinned half of her crimson hair into an elegant braid at the back of her head, the rest falling gently down her back in curls with tiny braids woven throughout._

_Arwen herself was in rich, winey red, setting off her loose, dark hair and shining gray eyes flawlessly._

_Enelya hugged her aunt tightly._

_"Thank you thank you thank you!" she chanted. Arwen laughed breathlessly._

_"Air! I need air!" she gasped dramatically. The two shared a laugh before heading to the Hall to the feast._

_The feast was like no other—the Hall was decorated in beautiful lilies; the food was done to perfection; and Lindir had outdone himself with a wild, haunting melody, like something of the fae, swirling through the room. Enelya cursed the pallor of the elves when her grandfather made a speech about her, because she just __knew__ she was the color of a strawberry—the little smirk playing on Arwen's lips told her that._

_At least she got to dance._

_And dance she did—with her uncles, her grandfather, Glorfindel, and Erestor, round and round in wild, ancient dances. The rest of Middle Earth had the strange assumption that Elves only danced in slow, stately, stuffy dances—ha! That was what they wanted everyone to think. Not even Mithrandir had seen the Elves dance._

_It was whirling, twisting, __free__ dancing, where you were with one partner one moment, and with a skip and a twirl, another partner took their place the next. It was heady, liberating stuff, and Enelya loved it. She whirled and leaped and dipped and spun, each partner's face blurring with the next—Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrohir, Elladen, even Elrond—in never-ending, dizzying circles._

_The Elves' festivities carried on seemingly endlessly, even as the first signs of dawn began to appear as rosy tendrils streaking the lightening sky. It would soon have to be the last dance of the night, for the Elves would not show their festivities to anyone. _

_So it was with light feet that Enelya whirled through the final steps of the last dance, before she turned to face her partner, grasping his hand easily. And froze._

_And something inside of her clicked into place. She felt complete._

_Evidently he felt it too._

_"__Cuil melethril."__ Legolas of the Greenwood breathed._


	5. Chapter 5

"I found you." He breathed. Enelya couldn't breathe.

Suddenly his hand was on her cheek and he was staring deep into her eyes.

"Beautiful." He murmured; the accent all Elves had lilting over the syllables like running water. Enelya reached out a shaking hand and touched a piece of his shimmering blonde hair.

"You're here." She sighed happily. "I don't ever have to be alone again?" she queried. Legolas smiled, even though his eyes looked troubled at her question.

"Never, _a'mael er_." He said tenderly. He bent his head down and brushed his lips against hers in a sweet, soft kiss—Enelya's first. It was short, but utterly perfect, and Enelya's magic escaped her constrains and swirled around them in sparkling greens, silvers, red, and gold. He pulled back in shock. Enelya absently noticed that the hall had gone silent, and everyone was staring in awe of the magical bonding. Except for Legolas. Except for her _cuil melethril_.

He was staring at her with something more akin to revulsion.

"The Elf Witch is you?" he whispered harshly. "How could my One be a half breed _witch_?"

It took everything in Enelya to strike her One, but somehow she pulled back her hand and cracked it across his face in a stinging slap.

"I am no half breed. My mother was Lady Arawen daughter of Elrond and my father was Lord Lenwë Tinehtelë. What I do not see is how _my_ One could be so prejudiced and believe that my magic makes me evil. It is a gift from the Valar and I cherish it. What I fail to see is how the Valar could have _possibly_ seen my happiness with _you_. But I will not question them. I will believe that somewhere in you there is a decent Elf. But unless I see him, I want _nothing_ to do with you." She snarled. With a swirl of her skirts, Enelya turned, her head held high and not an emotion on her beautiful, set face, and left the shocked, silent hall, and a stunned Legolas Greenleaf, behind.

Once she rounded the corner, though, she slipped into a little alcove and sobbed as though her heart would break. Arwen found her later, and upon seeing the pitiful red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, was filled with a venom not often seen in the gentle Evenstar. She comforted the distraught girl, took her to bed, and soothed her with old Elvish songs. When she finally drifted off, Arwen allowed the simmering rage to boil to the surface and stalked off down the marble halls of Imladris.

She was off to scalp a certain prince.

-o0o-

"Ow ow ow ow ow ow! Arwen stop it! What did I doooooooo?" Legolas wailed as he was dragged along the halls by a very angry Arwen.

"I will not stop. What on earth possessed you to hurt Enelya like that?! She may have magic but she is no witch. She is the nicest, sweetest person I know, and she has not had a good childhood. She watched her parents die in front of her before she was one on Earth, where she fought multiple wars in magic, against foes worse than Sauron himself. You had NO right to say such things about her and if I have my way you will see just what you did to her. All she ever wanted was someone's unconditional love and she thought that maybe if she could find her c_uil melethril_ she would have it. But _no, _you call her a witch and a half breed—all because she showed her magic! Thranduil has his own magic, what is so different about his and hers?" she demanded.

"It is unnatural!" Legolas protested. Arwen scowled.

"You could say that her hair is unnatural in its color, but you called _that _beautiful. Her magic is a part of her, just as Enelya's hair is a part of her. She is less than a century old, and yet somehow, she manages to see the world more clearly and with less prejudice than you, who is more than three _thousand_ years old!"

Legolas was silent for a moment before saying childishly, "It is still unnatural."

Arwen slapped him.

-o0o-

Enelya woke up to the uncomfortable feeling of dried tears on her face. She quickly slipped out of bed and washed her face before looking in the mirror and sighing. Thankfully her Elvish blood kept her from looking like a total wreck but she was wan-looking compared to normal.

"What is wrong with me that I am repulsive to so many Elves?" she asked sadly. Enelya shook her head and slipped out of her crumpled dress and into a fresh set of leggings and a tunic. She strapped on her leather arm guards and shoved her feet into supple leather boots. Her wand was strapped to its holster on her upper thigh, numerous knives were secreted away on her person, and her great bow and quiver were slung on her back, along with two wickedly sharp Elven knives from Galadriel and Celeborn. Some would have wondered about the extent of her weaponry while she was within the gleaming halls of Imladris. Enelya would only smile and tell them she trained a lot.

It was true… just not in the way that they thought.

After making her way to the stables, Enelya greeted her chestnut mare, Gilthoniel.

"Hello, girl. How are you feeling today?" she queried softly. The mare nuzzled her face and nickered in return, which Enelya knew meant "hello, nice to see you, I'm doing fine, how are you?"

Enelya smiled sadly. "I could be better, sweetheart." She whispered. Then she and Gilthoniel started as a shadowy figure emerged from the other side of the stables. Enelya flicked a dagger into one hand.

"Who's there?" she demanded. The figure came into focus, head down.

"Legolas of Mirkwood." Enelya stiffened.

"Why are you here?" she asked coldly. Legolas sighed and raised his head.

"To apologize." He said. Enelya narrowed her eyes.

"Go on." She said softly.

"I spoke wrongly. You have magic but you are not a half breed, and I was wrong to address you as such. _Goheno nin._"

Enelya's eyes had narrowed to mere slits.

"Do you wish my forgiveness because you truly feel sorrow at your actions, or do you wish my forgiveness because you must?"

Something flickered across Legolas's face. Enelya snorted, the sound full of contempt.

"I thought as such." She said, a trace of disgust lacing her silken voice.

"My lady…" Legolas began before Enelya cut him off with a huff.

"Do not beseech me with honeyed words that you do not mean, Prince of Mirkwood. You should leave." She said, her voice cold. Legolas nodded and left without another word, his expression cold.

Enelya sighed and rested her head against Gilthoniel's glossy flank.

"Oh Gilthoniel," She whispered. "Why does not even my One accept me?"

Outside the door, Legolas leaned his head against the wall with the barest whisper of a thud.

'_What have I done to her?' _ He wondered.

Whatever he had done, he hoped it hadn't pushed her beyond repair. Not even a witch deserved that.

-o0o-


End file.
